I've enlisted climbing gnomes for surgery. My beloved cathedral trees are beginning their fall catharsis, and some of them are yet clinging to the ways of their youth, spreading groping limbs close to the ground to reach for comfort. We'll have none of that here! The only thing to do is to lop off those vestigial limbs.

The gnomes proceed with gusto, joshing and ribbing each other on the way up and down the trees. First they tie all the suspect trees together with rope, over and under which they then irreverently leap. Then it's "hup, hup, hup" -- into the trees they climb. They toss saws and shears around up in the canopy. (That's when I cringe, typically.) I don't watch them work.

The air is thickened. I worry that some worry is trying to drown me. I can see the evidence of violence in the streets, and it's troublesome. Of course, there's lots of affected dismay about today as well.

You know, I've been thinking about revamping the cosmology. That is to say, maybe there are five elements instead of only four. It might explain a lot, like why the world is suddenly crawling with previously unseen beasts. I have a schema that shows how this might work, that I think I will save for tomorrow.